


Bite Me!

by XxTwistedEverAfterxX



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Thigh sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:38:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTwistedEverAfterxX/pseuds/XxTwistedEverAfterxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Invited to a special type of Trick and Treat gathering, Alfred and Matthew are required to go in their assigned costumes given to them through a letter in the mail. Despite Matthew getting the short end of the stick in apparel, it's Alfred who ends up suffering at the party, and plotting just how to get even.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bite Me!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nande-aru-ka](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nande-aru-ka).



> This was for nande-aru-ka and their gift for the AmeCan Halloween Exchange 2014! Their gift giver didn't end up posting it, so I ended up covering it and working on it as soon as my exams had finished! The prompt that I went with was the wish of Alfred dressed as a vampire, and Matthew dressed as a witch, and people flirting with him to the point of making Alfred jealous, with some biting involved~! It's quite NSFW, and I do hope you enjoy it! Smooch smooch!

It was  _meant_  to have been fun.

That was the first thought that Alfred found himself sourly thinking barely half an hour into the party, brooding miserably in the corner of the room by the themed foods shaped like eyeballs, brains and red coloured jelly vodka shots in faux syringes labelled with various blood types. Not even the buffet table at his disposal could brighten his mood, bright blue eyes narrowed behind his glasses, sharp and locked on a single solitary person; the 'life' of the 'Trick and Treat' party.

Slowly, he was beginning to wonder whether the costume was a trick on the one wearing it, or on him.

The invitation had come two weeks prior as a letter in the mail. It was odd, given that the party organiser already had everyone added on Facebook, but that wasn't the point of it, it seemed, as this way it made it a mystery as to who was going, and what they were going as. Everyone had been allocated to arrive in sets, with one partner receiving a 'Trick' costume, and the other being the counterpart 'Treat'. When theirs had arrived, and the envelopes opened to reveal their designated costumes and where they could be purchased, Alfred had hooted and howled with laughter upon reading Matthew's, once he had wrestled it from his hands to try and understand why his expression had been so mortified.

" _Trick: Sexy witch costume."_

Initially, after Matthew had donned the costume and stepped out of the bathroom, having slammed the door in Alfred's face and locked it after persistent play teasing, the Canadian had been horribly flustered, red faced, and constantly yanking at the hem of the dress to pull it down over his underwear, firmly setting his foot down that he was wearing male underwear, at the very least, rather than some flimsy and thin lacy lingerie.

Now… well, Alfred was glad that the bastard had male underwear on and wasn't giving more of a show and delighting other party guests further. Already, Matthew had been wolf whistled at a total of twenty three times, eyed up and down sixty two times, given fourteen pats on the back, twelve 'accidental' brushes of fingers on milky thighs clad in deep pink fishnet stockings, and had had a total of five men and two women actively flirting… and Alfred was  _seething_.

Smacking his lips again, Alfred ran his tongue along the two fake fangs he wore, long and only on his canines, stuck in with special glue that would come off once the solution provided in the pack was mixed up and then rubbed on. They weren't coming off too easily, even if he ate, which had been his intention, but now… oh now, he had other plans with them. Eyeing Matthew up and down as the Canadian laughed, he took in the pale curve of his neck and how it joined his shoulders, the Trapezius muscle standing out with the lack of fabric covering his shoulders or collar bone. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed a drink, and Alfred was fixated on the stark masculinity mixed in with the touches of femininity that made Matthew's body so  _addictive_. He had a gorgeous neck, and Alfred's jaw was aching now, oral fixation driving him to need to occupy his mouth, though not with food this time, but to mark what was his, and damn it, with the way that those speaking to Matthew were behaving, he needed to make sure it was  _clear_  that the Canadian was spoken for.

It was the fifteenth pat on the back along the open lacings of the witch dress, and the continued brush of fingers along the toned and muscled shoulder blade muscles, and the way that Matthew simply adjusted that damn broad brimmed witch's hat on his head in response—flexing subtly and dragging the short, deep purple dress with black ruffle trimmings underneath up to reveal more of his fishnet clad thighs and the slightest curve of a hockey-sculpted ass in black male briefs that forced Alfred to act.

In a single moment, he had crossed the room, the cape of his vampire costume fluttering behind him, dark and pulling the dangerous aura with it. The fine white shirt he wore was crinkled at the sleeves from fisting it in his festering fury, muscles tight and tense with aggression hidden by it and the black vest he wore, accented with a pale cravat and a single red ribbon atop it, keeping his collar sharp against his sun kissed skin, and defying his blistering emotions with elegance. Reaching Matthew was no trouble; the Canadian's ass was like a siren song to him, and with how that damn skirt wasn't pulled down to cover it completely again, it was easy to shove and shoulder past individuals who had been caught in its spell.

Reaching out, Alfred closed the distance between him and Matthew, roughly yanking the other in against his chest so that his exposed back was concealed, feeling him tense in his arms, hand splaying along a toned stomach where he could feel the firm ridges of abdominal muscles beneath the trashy cheap silken fabric of the 'sexy witch' outfit.

"We're going home."

The words were growled right into Matthew's ear, and violet eyes widened a bit more behind the frames of rounded glasses, relaxing only ever so slightly in the American's arms once he had identified who it was that had grabbed him so suddenly from behind. Alfred's hand, controlling and firm on his gut, sent shivers down his spine, and he turned a cool gaze over the slope of his shoulder and through his curls of fair blond to gradated caramel hued hair, connecting violet eyes with bright blue which were murky with wrath, jealousy, and possession.

"Why?" he asked, voice dripping with poison, "I was having fun, meeting new people. It seems my 'trick' costume was appreciated."

That passive-aggressive son of a bitch… Alfred knew immediately that Matthew had been doing this all on purpose the moment that he had received such positive attention, all to spite him for making fun of him and laughing so much when he'd gotten the letter, and when he'd donned the outfit. Said outfit was now driving him wild, and he felt animalistic with how his blood was pumping in his veins, making him crave to mark, bite, scratch, and pin Matthew down and reclaim him.

Only Matthew knew how to draw the aggression and passion out of him like this.

Only Matthew knew how to make him keen and drop to his knees and beg.

Only Matthew, and Matthew was  _only his_.

"Don't act like a bitch, I know what you're doing," Alfred hissed, turning his stare instead to those standing before him, grinding his hips forward once into Matthew's rear, making him tense in his hold and draw in a sharp breath, "You're doing that just to piss me off."

"Well, it's working, isn't it?" Matthew returned, a breathy chuckle falling from his lips, angling his head away a little to adjust his hat, allowing Alfred to feel every shift and flex of his physique through the thin fabric, unconsciously exposing his neck, "Besides, weren't  _you_  the one who insisted we go along with this? I'm only doing what  _you_  suggested."

The minx… He  _was_  doing it on purpose, and it was definitely to spite him.

With a coy smile, Matthew turned his attention back to the small confused group of people, the thump of the base from the music loud enough to conceal their private conversation, but not enough to mask the glowering glare Alfred was throwing those before him. As easily as before, Matthew returned to the conversation, all but ignoring the American half wrapped around him. Those speaking to Matthew ignored Alfred as well, continuing to chat, and that chatter lead to little looks, which quickly lead to small flirts being slipped into their conversation like it was nothing, and rather than dismissing it, Matthew simply let the comments slide. All of this was only serving to rile Alfred up further, grinding subtly against Matthew's rear, fisting the front of his skirt to keep it forcefully down, the heel of his palm pressing against Matthew's pelvic bone, ghosting over his crotch with every rock of his hips forward. It was a game, to see who would crack first, and with every stutter of breath that caught in Matthew's throat, and every snarl and growl from Alfred's, it became a close race.

One misplaced flirt, and it was Alfred who was the first to cross the line, seeing red at the way the person before them licked their lips at Matthew and reached out to touch him.

Grasping Matthew firmly, he stepped backwards, yanking the Canadian with him, causing the fairer haired blond to gasp in surprise at the sudden movements, stumbling, his hands coming down to brace himself; one on Alfred's forearm around his waist, the other reaching back to the one now resting on his hip. He didn't remain that way for long, quickly being spun around, violet eyes turning angry behind his lenses, slightly askew with the motion.

"Alfred!"

" _Mine_."

Bright blue eyes were fiery and consuming his field of vision, their noses brushing, false fangs bared and Matthew's heart skipped a beat in his chest, despite his scolding, and he returned the stare icily before his lips curved into a small smile.

"What, are you  _jealous_  that I'm getting some positive attention? Thought I was going to play some meek little deer in the corner of the party depending on you and your big wide cape to hide my poor flustered body?" Matthew sneered, tilting his head cockily, the softness of his hair contrasting the sharp expression, making Alfred growl deep in his throat, "I'm not some spineless bitch, Al. You want to make fun of me just because, what, I have to wear a dress? Fine. But I'm going to  _flaunt it_ , and make you  _watch_."

With that, as though the conversation had ended, Matthew turned his head away, pressing his hands to Alfred's chest to push, only for Alfred's grip to tighten on his hips, yanking them forward to grind together.

"You're gettin' off on this, you sadist," Alfred snarled, drawing Matthew's gaze back to him, pulling them both along backwards away from the group, "Fine, you wanna play that game?  _Fine_."

Matthew opened his mouth to argue, only for a moan to harmonise with the party's music, his eyes fluttering closed, pale lashes resting against his cheeks as Alfred bit down on his neck, the two fangs coming into contact with pale skin first and pressing in deep, followed by Alfred's much blunter real ones.

"Fuck, Alfred, t-the fangs," Matthew gasped out, squirming, though he pressed his thighs close together, reaching up to grasp Alfred's hair, fisting it for grounding rather than to yank his head back, Alfred's teeth only pressing in deeper at the faintest sign of resistance, grasping at his skin with a tight grip, "Gently, g-gently, oh fuck, Al."

A firm suck, and Matthew was keening, the hand on Alfred's chest grasping to the hems of the cape that hung high on Alfred's pectoral, yanking at it as he tried his best to take in steady, deep breaths.

"You want to flaunt it? Want  _me_  to watch? Go for it," Alfred murmured, lips disconnecting from Matthew's neck with a soft but lewd sounding  _pop_ , a reddening mark left behind with two deep pressured indents that had darkened to a purple where the fangs had been digging in a little more forcefully. It wasn't enough to break skin, but it was enough to be felt on that fine border of pain-pleasure-pain, and to leave behind a mark. That was what Alfred wanted.

"Just don't forget that you're  _mine_."

That was it, right there; the possessive and deeply needy tone of voice that Matthew had a dark addiction to. It was a cycle—Alfred would do something to piss Matthew off, Matthew would retaliate and work Alfred up, Alfred would take the bait- hook, line and sinker- and then Matthew would play him like a puppet to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was the animalistic side of Alfred, the roughness, the desperation to keep him because they knew that they loved each other deeply, and both accepted that they didn't want to keep their relationship quite so vanilla. Beneath the game nights and movie marathons and Alfred wrapped around him like a second skin in the winter for body warmth and to cuddle, Matthew loved how Alfred never treated him like a dainty, fragile, porcelain doll like others tended to. Alfred knew he could take it a bit rough and he was a  _man_  and God  _yes_  he could give back as hard as he got.

It was the gentleness and patronising flirting of the strangers, treating him as though he was a petite and cute little girl, which had angered him more than Alfred's teasing had—though that had, without a doubt, played a significant part in winding the Canadian up that evening. Now all he was craving for was that delicious dominance and fight for it that came with a worked up Alfred.

Without another word to the strangers, Alfred's hand clasped down tightly on Matthew's wrist and yanked, gaze fierce and eyes determined as he stalked from the room, dragging Matthew with him, even as the hand that was free worked now on keeping the skirt down over his rear. He didn't need to be giving a show to others anymore; his goal had been achieved, after all. Passing even people that they knew without a word, Alfred guided them both up the stairs to where it was quieter, opening door after door and glancing in, slamming it when he didn't find what he wanted. It was clear to see the strain in his black slacks, the zipper struggling in its job to keep them closed as Alfred's cock swelled harder and harder, until the discomfort was clear in the urgency with which he opened and shut doors.

Eventually, Alfred was satisfied when they came to the bathroom, and he shoved Matthew inside, catching him before he fell or collided with anything by the front of his witch dress, his other hand shutting the door forcefully behind them and locking it once the light had been flicked on with clumsy fingers. Though they were the same height, Alfred's attitude alone had him appearing taller and broader. Matthew's expression was sly, lips set in a devious smile, his eyes devilish and hands behind him, grasping the black ruffles of his costume, lowering it over his rear, though raising it at the front consequently.

"This isn't nearly as romantic as I hoped," he teased, cocking his head as Alfred stepped closer, a tanned hand cupping his face which he leant into, the other keeping him in place.

"You were goin' about askin' for romantic the wrong way," Alfred grit out through his teeth, studying the fair complexion, eyes dragging down to the bite mark on Matthew's neck. The Canadian chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he cocked his head, exposing the pale and pliable space more, lips spreading wider, curling cat like.

"Not even going to wait until we get home?" he taunted, "Where all of our fun toys can come in handy, or you can tie me up and make me  _scream_?"

"I couldn't wait until we get home, even if I tried," Alfred snorted, releasing Matthew's costume to work hastily on his belt, caressing his cheek briefly before that hand too joined in working to free his cock, "Go face the mirror and bend over the sink, spread your legs nice and wide."

"No respect for another person's home," Matthew sighed, rolling his eyes, though obeyed when a firm hand came down against his rear, stepping forward briskly, finding Alfred immediately behind him, the hot flesh of his erection thick and sliding between his fishnet clad thighs. Teasingly, Matthew spread his legs further to give less friction to Alfred, hands grasping the sink and bending over it, watching Alfred over the curve of his shoulder, grinding back on him slowly as the skirt was bunched up.

"We'll clean up once we're done."

" _We_ ," Matthew echoed with a scoff, not resisting as his head was forcefully turned to face the mirror, looking into his own eyes and lustful expression, cheeks a soft pink and lips moderately parted, "How inclusive of you."

Alfred grunted, grasping at the top of the Canadian's fishnets, yanking them down, dragging the black briefs down as well with them to mid-thighs, licking his lips at the rounded globes, kneading them firmly.

"This ass is  _mine_."

Before Matthew could even respond, Alfred was groping hard, leaning in, and teeth were on his neck again, biting down firmly and he gasped in shock, moaning huskily and softly at the sucks and pulls to his skin.

"This body is  _mine_."

Another bite was given to untainted flesh, the fangs pressing in, scraping and dragging as they slid over dampened skin.

" _You_  are  _mine_."

"Oh fuck, Alfred," Matthew croaked out, chest starting to rise and fall unevenly with every quick and harsh nip, suck, and firm bite to his neck and shoulders, the lust and possession pulsing off of Alfred who was grinding his hips forward, cock curved and thick, nudging against his balls with the bulbous crown, sliding along the sensitive skin and making them both shudder.

"Mine," he growled, words punctuated with bites and sucks, "Mine, mine,  _mine_."

Reaching under the skirt of the witch's costume, pushing aside the ruffles, Alfred curled his fingers around Matthew's arousal, drawing a grunt from the Canadian as he began to give it long and firm tugs, thumbing over the head before returning to the base.

"Think they have lubricant here?"

"Are you serious?" Matthew asked, laughing, shaking his head and lifting his head up to study the various bottles littering the sink, lifting a hand from bracing himself against it to search through the labels, "And then have to do the Walk of Shame down the hall and out to the car?"

"It'll show everyone that you're mine," Alfred hissed again, pressing Matthew's thighs closer together so that he could thrust between them, the soft skin wonderful as he began to roughly buck his hips, jerking Matthew off in time with each push forward and back, fisting his clothes with the other hand, growling and occupying his mouth with Matthew's neck and shoulders as often as he could.

"Al, at this rate you'll cum from fucking my thighs rather than my ass," Matthew sniggered, gasping loudly at the thumb rubbing at the head of his cock firmly, pushing down the foreskin and rubbing at the sensitive skin beneath, making him go weak kneed, jaw falling open and eyes fluttering, head tipping back, "O-Oh God… Fuck…  _Fuck_."

"Watch yourself. Look at yourself—look at how dirty you are; your sexy, lewd body. Look at it," Alfred demanded, directing Matthew's face down to his reflection before him with his thumb and index finger on his chin, holding it firm while Matthew's eyes opened and focused, "Look at how hard you are. My little fucking  _slut_."

Matthew bit his lip hard, every word of the final sentence accentuated with a deep rub against the slit of his cock and a hard thrust of Alfred's hips, making his body jerk forward, a moan choked in his throat, tapering off into higher pitched whimpers which he tried to smother.

With the low height of the mirror, he could see all from his expression down to his thighs. He could see the way the dress was bunched up in ruffles above his waist and the bottom of his rib cage, and the way his body had coloured a soft pink with arousal. He could see the tension in his muscles, flexing and twitching with every bit of stimulation to the sensitive cockhead, to the soft skin of his thighs being used for Alfred's pleasure, and his neck and shoulders that almost permanently had Alfred's teeth and mouth attached. Violet eyes dragged upwards to where Alfred's head was; bright blue eyes sharp and fixated on Matthew's expression, lips and chin damp with saliva from the oral fixation he was trying so hard to satisfy. His once pale neck and shoulders were splattered with colour like ink had been dribbled carelessly, roses of red and purple with thorns from the near-punctures of faux fangs stained his skin from the curve of his shoulder, right up over the Trapezius muscle and up the strong column of his neck to his jaw line, ensuring that nothing would be hidden. Alfred had marked him well, making sure that no one would mistake that Matthew was taken.

The sudden assault on the slit of his cock had Matthew crying out, knocking over a few bottles of face cleansers and skin toners in the process, grasping to Alfred's hand on his torso and clinging tightly, his other hand curling on the sink and gripping fiercely. He dropped his gaze to his erection, able to see Alfred's hand glistening with pre-cum along his fingers, grasping to his swollen and hard cock—dark red and flushed—dribbling pearlescent drops with every assault of fingers and thumb that dragged them out. Alfred's cock disappeared and pressed through his thighs, now squeezed together tightly, muscles tense, the evidence of hiking clear in the strong flex.

"Al—Alfred, I… Oh fuck… I…"

"Keep watchin', look at yourself. You wanted me to look, so  _look_. Look at what your body does to me—look how fuckin' irresistible you are," Alfred snarled, the smack of hips against rear getting louder as he sped up his thrusts, rougher, more needy and animalistic, breathing hot and heavy against the back of Matthew's neck, tickling the fine hairs there, "So fuckin' sexy, I could ravish you forever… You're all  _mine_."

Crying out, Matthew abandoned his search for lubricant or lotion, knowing that even if they found it, he wouldn't be able to stop them long enough to stretch himself out, nor would they really have the time. They needed a quick fix before they went home. Once they were back, they'd be able to fuck properly, stretch out nice and slowly and safely, and then sate each other for hours on end, if need be. Alfred was insatiable sometimes, and Matthew loved how his recovery time was that of a young teenager—eager to go again hardly a minute after, if he was truly excited and needy.

"Gonna make me cum," Matthew moaned, forcing his eyes to keep focused, cock twitching just by watching, the excitement of voyeurism and exhibitionism only egging his arousal on, "Oh  _fuck_ , Alfred. Hurry up… Hurry up s-so we can cum and go home and— _oh fuck yes_! Hurry up, Al, hurry up, hurry up, please, God, I want to be fucked so bad,  _fuck_!"

"That's it, beg for me," Alfred choked out, voice guttural and low from behind him, jerking Matthew off as fast as his wrist and the angle allowed him, the pre-cum from his cock making his thighs slicker and easier to thrust into, panting hard, lips never ceasing, mouthing and kissing at Matthew's neck and the marks made, sloppy in his movements, "Only me, Mattie, only me."

"Fuck yeah, only you, Al," Matthew rushed out, desperate, watching Alfred's reflection, gaze flickering to his own expression of pleasure, face flushed, hair curling and witch hat lopsided on his head, licking his lips to wet them before he took the bottom one between his teeth, struggling to keep watching, "I'm cumming."

"Fuck yeah, cum, Mattie, cum, do it," Alfred growled, fangs scraping along Matthew's jaw line as he lifted his head, opening his eyes to stare at the mess he was making of the other, " _Cum_."

It only took a few more strokes, and listening to Alfred's husky moans and grunts and heavy breathing, before Matthew felt the tight coil in his gut tightening, balls drawing closer to his body and the room becoming an inferno. Heat splashed over him in waves from his head to his toes, and his voice choked out half formed cries of pleasure, trembling in Alfred's arms and squeezing his thighs together to bring the other off. It was Alfred who came first, in the end, and upon seeing Alfred's face twist with ecstasy, biting down on his neck once more and sucking firmly, Matthew followed with just a few more tugs at his cock, palming his balls and thumbing at the slit at the tip before he spilled himself into the sink with a low whimpered sigh.

Already, Matthew could feel Alfred's cum seeping down his thighs and over the fishnets that hadn't quite been pulled down to his knees, and he grunted, reaching down and catching the mess with his fingers before it could stain his underwear, wiping it up as best as he could and turned on the tap, washing his hands off.

"Go get the toilet paper. Let's clean up and go home," Matthew instructed softly between gasps of breath, turning his head to nudge at Alfred's temples with his nose, "Hey, leech, off my neck. That's going to start to hurt soon."

A muffled groan came in response, and Alfred opened his eyes blearily, Matthew finding himself smirking at the sleepy state the other had already gone into.

"Come on. I'll drive, and if you have strength once we get home, you can fuck me. Otherwise, we can have a nice hot shower together and get cuddly in bed, eh?" he offered, pressing a soft kiss to Alfred's cheek, chuckling lightly, "You're so cute when you get possessive and clingy. Weird as that is to say."

Alfred's hand tightened beneath Matthew's on his clothes, his other sliding up from underneath the dress, releasing Matthew's softening cock and began to wash his single hand under the stream of running water.

"People would call it creepy," Alfred pointed out softly, yawning, fangs baring as he did so, turning his head to wipe his chin and lips onto the stiff standing broad collar of his cape, "What are you so attracted to about bein' treated like an object of mine?"

"Mm, mainly because I know you don't truly think of me like that and love me; and it's fun to push you to that point."

"You're a bitch," Alfred snorted, grinning lopsidedly as he pulled away, awkwardly penguin stepping towards the toilet and grabbing the toilet paper, tearing some off and wiping himself down, making sure none of it got on his pants before tucking himself into his underwear, doing his belt up as he tossed the used toilet paper into the bowl, "You wanted some?"

"Yeah, thanks. You're not going to use water and clean up?" Matthew asked, accepting the torn off bits offered with a smile, dampening half of them first before setting to cleaning up his thighs and crotch, "Or are you waiting until we get home?"

"Wanna get home, shower, then maybe lazy sex in bed. Depends on how much you rile me up in the car," Alfred replied, pausing mid-way to doing up his belt as he caught Matthew bending over, ass high in the air and legs spread as he cleaned between his thighs, blue eyes narrowing and a breathless laugh of disbelief falling from his lips, shaking his head, "Fuckin' hell, Mattie."

Matthew smiled poisonously sweetly, making sure to dry his thighs before pulling up his underwear and the fishnets, fixing the dress and turned about, winking to the American.

"I wouldn't mind you evening up the other side of my neck, but only if you don't mind me making a mess of your back with my nails."

Alfred grinned widely, sliding in close to the Canadian to mouth softly at his lips with a slow and teasing kiss, hands coming to rest on his hips, rubbing them gently.

"You're the world's biggest teasin' minx. I'm gonna have to punish you good and hard for this once we're home," Alfred breathed against Matthew's lips, smile ever present, shivers racing down his spine and goose bumps raising to his skin at Matthew's words of defiance, encouragement and suggestion:

" _Bite me_."


End file.
